


Echo [Remix]

by Lenighma (Mareonet)



Series: Echo [The Remixes] [1]
Category: Bleach (manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bonding, Bromance, Drama, Gen, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 17:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3075260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareonet/pseuds/Lenighma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-AU, Echo Series Pt.1 REMIX- It seems as if Ichigo's Hollow has completely disappeared. Only now is he beginning to worry, but is it too late? Can he heal the void within himself? It takes one single, long echo and a careless mistake to cause the Hollow to stir. AU. Slight OOC? No pairings, just bonding; bromance? Semi-slice-of-life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro: Ring Ring

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Echo [EP]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3075146) by [Lenighma (Mareonet)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mareonet/pseuds/Lenighma). 



> This is a remix (rewrite) of my previous version of Echo, which can be found on my profile. I've made all of the instances of Ichigo’s Hollow when stated as “it” in bold, just for emphasis and changed the timeline so the Hollow hasn't been alone for as long as I’d like to make the emphasis I want…but for argument’s sake let’s say that, to it, it’s seemed like a frigging long time. 
> 
> The overall theme of the series is an album (literally in song form) of events called "Echo", thus the reason for the song- like names. This could be considered an EP. I also tried to mimic Kubo-sensei’s chapter name style…

The world was silent and cold…as usual. The upside-down and sideways within-inner-world of **its** King was almost always that way. Save the annoying times King would experience some sort of strong nuisance called emotion that caused grey rain to pour, the reddish-hued world remained insipid…and cold.

Not that **it** felt the cold. Being a Hollow, or some twisted relation to one, **it** was a cold being. Cold skin, cold body temperature, cold thoughts…cold heart. Or maybe not, considering **it** had a center, which was **its** King. Not that something like that ever mattered.

 **It** had finally given up trying to dethrone King. After a long while of fighting within his soul for his body and his power he once ever-so abused, **it** found out the hard way King was stronger than **it** ever hoped…even though **it** always knew, of course. The Hollow _knew_ **its** King was extremely powerful. That was why **it** had wanted to dethrone him. **It** wanted that power to be **its** own, power he didn’t deserve.

…But any chance of that happening now was most likely gone.

As **it** watched the doings of **its** King as he lived a more normal sixteen-year-old life, after a while, the Hollow found **itself** longing for something within **its** cold being. Something **it** had never felt before…and something **it** didn’t know how to explain. Emotions were nearly foreign to **it**. Now that the war was long over and the Hollows that showed up in the human world were ones King could easily handle with his eyes closed, the Hollow was never needed.

To King, **it** probably ceased to exist at all.

…Fine.

So in turn, eventually, the Hollow receded into the depths of **its** King’s inner being and stopped watching him live his human life. There was no longer a reason to watch.

To make matters worse, _that_ was coming. The Hollow could feel it creeping up, slowly but surely, and knew Zangetsu could feel it, too. Maybe that’s why King was ignoring **it**. No, that didn’t make sense. So did he simply forget? Everything? That wasn’t good. Or…did he simply not care?

The Hollow hated thinking. **It** was instinct, after all…

…though **it** didn’t feel much like that anymore. If anything…

* * *

One day in the recesses of the inverted world within the world within the soul of a boy, the Hollow stirred to the sound of an echo. 


	2. Matter

There was that sound again. That sound always came around at least once a day. Or was it more than once? Was it even a day? Hour? Twice a week? Once a month? Year? The Hollow didn’t know anymore. **It** scarcely even cared. **It** simply existed within this world, this hellish and insipid reddish world within a world within the soul of a boy. Or what once was a boy…He was probably a man, now. Nearly?

…Oh, well.

That wasn’t really important to **it**. **It** just wanted that _sound_ to _shut up_.

Was this what it was like for Zangetsu before their King heard him? Last time **it** checked, their King still spoke to the old man. Perhaps it was because he was closer than **it** was to their King in every literal meaning. Never mind the fact that **it** was also part of their King’s soul…Shinigami and their zanpakutō _needed_ to have a strong bond. It was something as natural as breathing, that bond. The only exception **it** knew of was that…beast…of a man…what was his name…? He had uncannily pointy black hair…a _true_ lust for fighting… _real_ instinct…

 _Shut up, shut up, shut **up**_ , sound!

The sound didn’t mean anything to **it** , but **it** wanted the sound to go _away_ , at least. What the hell was King _d_ —?

…No… **it** didn’t care. **It** shouldn’t.

 **It** recalled when **it** had begun wondering, bored with nothing to do, as much as **it** _hated_ thinking, if anything mattered anymore. What _were_ the things that mattered? **It** had sifted through King’s memories and knew what mattered to _him_ , so were those things important to everyone? What did **it** consider meaningful? Fighting, naturally. A good fight. And bloodshed. King never bled well enough. Fear? Scaring people was rare…Those were all the things **it** ever knew, starting from the day **it** was born: _fight_ , _win_ and _don’t_ _die_.

But…that wasn’t all **it** had seen, of course…

…Oh, well.

Stuff like that didn’t matter anymore.

 **It** pressed white hands to **its** ears, grinding **its** teeth in annoyance.

 **_SHUT UP_ ** _, SOUND!_

* * *

It all began a month after the war. The last thing Ichigo remembered was greeting his friends for the first time since his battle against Ulquiorra in Hueco Mundo. Then…an overwhelming pain unlike anything he had ever felt overcame him…and then darkness took him. He didn’t tell anyone, but he distantly remembered hearing the sad voices of the two avatars within his soul, Zangetsu and…the Hollow. But he couldn’t remember what they said. Though…there was that vague feeling of being close to two bodies, one tepid and the other chilled…

He remembered everything else like it was yesterday. He had awakened quite abruptly, as if he had taken a fifteen minute nap, alert, and to the voices of his friends surrounding him within his own home. He blinked into four pairs of eyes and glad faces who told him he had slept for a month. A whole _month_ had passed. Then a solemn-faced Rukia told him what he already knew, that Urahara told them everything about the Final Getsuga Tenshō. He hadn’t been surprised. But…

Confused? Yes.

Just as they all were, in fact, when, after asking to go outside, Ichigo could _still_ feel reiatsu and even after twenty minutes, could _still_ see Rukia. “But he said”s and “Are you sure”s were passed all around, but Ichigo didn’t need to confirm it with an outsider: Zangetsu himself had told him so. He became Getsuga, thus _should_ be losing his powers. So…what was going on?

After quickly consulting an, at first, equally-confused Urahara, the sly man had given them the only possible answer: oh, Ichigo was going to lose his powers, alright, but for some strange reason, not as soon as they all thought. Whether or not Zangetsu knew this, Ichigo wasn’t going to pry the answer from him; that sort of talk became an understandably touchy subject.

And so, a sort of uneasy breath of air was let out. Ichigo could continue being a Shinigami Representative, at least for a short while longer.

The weeks slowly went by and still no sign of Ichigo’s powers giving out. At least…not from the outside…

And then things just became _bizarre_.

Again, he didn’t tell anyone, but it became quiet. Deathly quiet. And in his _soul_ , of all places. It was only then Ichigo had realized there had always been a different noise or _feeling_ of some sort within both his soul and mind. It was minute and usually soft, but there nonetheless and somewhat, maybe not, separate from Zangetsu’s. Its void was disconcerting. At first he panicked, believing _that_ was beginning; it wasn’t that it was going to happen that bothered him, but it was _how_ it came about that did. But no, that wasn’t it. In fact…

What happened to his Hollow?

A month had passed since he woke up when he took notice of that silence and pinpointed it as the “absence” of that warbled, annoying voice in his head and that disturbing, creeping presence in his soul. What happened to **it**?

Though unnervingly calm, even Zangetsu couldn’t reach **it** , which admittedly made Ichigo nervous. As much as he didn’t think very highly of his Hollow as far as another part of him went, **it** _was_ still a part of him. He had accepted the fact that he couldn’t get rid of **it**. He even grudgingly admitted **it** could be a potentially agreeable partner if wasn’t for the fact that **it** had such a morbid ulterior motive and was such a damn _pain in the ass_.

After the war, **it** was quieter, yes. **It** had only made seldom scoffs and laughs here and there…but didn’t speak, he recalled. And then the interjections became shorter and lesser before just disappearing altogether. If it weren’t for the memories and fact that he could still summon his mask, he probably would have forgotten he was a Vizard altogether…

…That is, when he _could_ summon his mask.

Shortly after waking up, he discovered he could no longer summon his mask. He honestly didn’t know when he started being unable to, be it using “rare” to explain how often he actually did wasn’t an exaggeration. And yes, he felt stupid for not realizing sooner. But the more he thought about it, it wasn’t that his Hollow was simply not talking to him anymore… **it** didn’t even seem to _EXIST_ anymore.

He didn’t need Zangetsu to explain to him why this matter was a problem. A part of him was missing. Or something. Perfectly reasonable excuse to start panicking.

It didn’t help that the Vizards had completely disappeared. They seemed to have a huge vendetta against Shinigami, and what it was, Ichigo hadn’t a clue. They had disappeared before he could ask them about his inner-Hollow-related issue. It was unfortunate and _very_ bad timing.

This matter was personal. A nagging, voiceless whisper called his conscious told him he had to get to the bottom of it on his own. But where did he start?

…He tried calling out to **it** , just once.

…Nothing.

* * *

A day after he counseled himself, Ichigo faced the usual everyday routine: wake up and throw dear father out a two-story window, go downstairs, greet sisters, get ready and get to school, give Keigo a good, thick bicep for breakfast, greet friends, spat good-naturedly at local young Quincy over nothing, stay in class for all of thirty minutes before sensing a Hollow…et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…

…end up on top of the school roof for lunch with friends. Felt good. Normal.

It was true that the Hollows that came around Karakura Town were _extremely_ weak now, barely even worth giving much attention at all. He was even sure Orihime could effortlessly take them out with Tsubaki. It was good to know the Hollow threat had greatly dwindled the way it had, back to what it was like before the Aizen mess became apparent to all. He could finally focus on his studies again. Life was good. Natural.

Or would be.

If it weren’t for the obvious.

And if it wasn’t for that.

…And _that_.

…He really had to do something about that…

He took no notice of the conversations going on around him as his mind wondered on the subject of his Hollow again for the umpteenth time that day. With the constant threat of… _that_ …happening anytime soon, he was feeling the need to put things to rest between himself and his Hollow, and hopefully in a positive sort of way. And…truthfully, he was worried about **it**. And…what **its** silence might mean for _him_.

He offhandedly responded to a question addressed to him that he would be busy later that day. _Very_ busy, for that matter.

He didn’t notice the worried glances thrown his way.

* * *

Later that day, he arrived back home with a one-track mind: beat the crap out of dad, politely decline food (naw, he was kind of hungry, so scratch that: eat something), go into room, lock Kon in a drawer, get homework done…then go out away from Karakura Town and the city, for safety reasons, and enter his inner world, damnit.

He’d get to the bottom of this matter.

Even if he’d have to tug his Hollow out from…wherever.

Hopefully there _was_ a “wherever”.

After all, who knew what being in contact with Aizen could do to you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last line is a spoiler for a later part of the series with another character…so go over who has been in direct contact with Aizen. Keep those people in mind for later.


	3. Why?

Ichigo’s well thought-out plan to work on his homework for a good few hours seemed well and good, even to him. It was a simple plan, one that should have been effortless and easy to focus on without trying too hard. After all, not only did he _know_ the homework, but he _knew_ he was a smart student. Nothing to brag about like _Uryu_ , but good enough for him. He’d done worse.

But there was this _itch_. This annoying, pestering feeling that was keeping him anxious despite his better judgment. He tapped his pencil at his desk, resting his head in his palm, and his leg was shaking in that agitated way one’s leg seems to move on its own when restless.

So he gave in, sighing, and closed his books, pushing them aside to the end of the desk. He didn’t feel like studying anymore, anyway.

Standing, he went to his drawer and took out Kon, who was playing dead, surprisingly. “Kon,” he said, shaking him.

With a twitch, Kon glanced at the teen. “Whaddaya want?” he grumbled.

“I’ve gotta go out. Take care of my body.”

And without much else of a warning, Ichigo extracted the mod soul’s true pill form and popped him into his mouth, swallowing instantly (so as not to think about what he was doing too much), forcing his soul out of his body.

As he left through the open window, he heard Kon’s cries of joy at being back in his body and “free at last”. With a roll of his eyes, Ichigo decided not to think too hard on whether or not Kon was ever telling the truth about what he _supposedly_ did withhis body…

It was around five o’clock. He hoped to be back in less than four hours. If that.

As he left Karakura Town and headed away from both it and the city, traveling in the air on reishi particles, his thoughts briefly strayed to the little of the conversation he did catch his friends talking about during lunch at school. Something about what they were going to do after they graduated. Orihime was already beginning to work at a bakery, as she was apparently…and surprisingly…good at baking comestibles. Anything else he hadn’t been paying attention to hear, but was unfortunately looking interested enough for them to turn the question on _him_.

What was he going to do after he graduated…?

He hadn’t given an answer.

He supposed it all depended on _that_ …

…And this.

Had it not been such an impending situation, for _that_ , he had occasionally wondered in the past if he’d join the Gotei. He never though seriously about it, but it was an option, he had supposed. There was no reason why _not_ to, right?

Right?

But in a more realistic and probable future, he thought of becoming a DJ and...maybe an instructor at a dojo... His love and knowledge of music was already vastly known throughout his school. So that DJ idea was very appealing…

He arrived in the forest a short while later, after dumbly realizing using shunpō would get him there and back _much_ faster than at a normal pace. He really didn’t want to be out all night and truly hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But considering this was **it** he was going to be dealing with...

A part of him wondered why he didn’t chose do to this on a weekend.

Oh, right.

 _That’s_ why.

The sooner, the better.

...The locale seemed good enough.

Landing gently on the grass beneath a tree, he sat down and crossed his legs. Taking one more glance around to assure himself this _was_ the best location he knew of in case something happened between himself and his Hollow, he exhaled deeply. He didn’t have much of a choice, if he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Closing his eyes, he began to meditate, slowly pulling himself into his inner world.

* * *

 

He opened his eyes to have the sideways view of towers and falling clouds greet him in a cloudy grey sky. Not too far away, Zangetsu stood in his usual position on the flagpole. He stayed quiet for a moment, surveying the dreary sky before him. Looked like it was going to rain.

“Sorry, Ossan,” he called to Zangetsu, “about the sky.”

There was a short silence before Zangetsu hummed. “Rain in your world is much different from rain in the outside world,” he responded, stepping down from the pole. “It shall be interesting to watch your reaction to it. You will then know why I hate it so.”

Sighing softly, Ichigo glanced at him. The zanpakutō spirit seemed patiently passive, as usual, no expression of annoyance or displeasure on his face, as always. Ichigo felt his usual connection to him as he always did, it was strong, as it usually was, and had been since he learned bankai. It felt like so long ago. But something was amiss.

Why?

“Still can’t find **it**?” he asked.

Zangetsu looked away. “Though we are parts of your soul, and share the same form within your soul, we exist in different planes within it. Can you feel it, Ichigo? The deepest, furthest depths of your soul?”

Closing his eyes, Ichigo concentrated. He wasn’t too sure _what_ to concentrate _on_ , but he was determined, and that hadn’t failed him yet. He felt within his soul for the second time in his life since the day he felt for Zangetsu’s Reiraku. He could feel it, sense it again, that unmistakable blood-red thread-like ribbon...but there was more. And it was eluding him…on purpose.

 _Why_?

His brows furrowed as he concentrated harder, reaching out to that other _something_.

“Relax,” Zangetsu’s voice echoed to him.

Allowing his shoulders to lax and ceased creasing his forehead, he exhaled slowly through his nose. He could feel it, then, the source of that _other something_. Opening his eyes, he saw Zangetsu standing before him, but the darkness that made up his garb began to bellow out, reaching out towards him. As menacing as the darkness looked, Ichigo knew better than to be afraid. And this was where **it** was. It made sense.

Within Zangetsu.

The shadows enclosed around him, obscuring his view for short moments before faded reddish light grew from within. It seemed a bit like the same color that Zangetsu always seemed to carry within him, but this was somehow different. Slowly, the black became a faded gray color and the red became the most dominant and most obvious color of this new…world. In fact…the whole world had a red hue and different shades of gray for undertones.

Glancing to his sides, he also realized that it seemed as if he was in upside-down and somewhat inverted version of his side-ways, colorful inner world. Looking down at his feet, he saw the last of the darkness disappear like charred paper beneath him. It was then he put two and two together.

This was an _opposite_ world, seemingly beneath or within the other.

This was **its** world.

Had Zangetsu been the only avatar within his soul, he wondered if that meant the first inner world was his own, sharing it with Ichigo; _their_ own. Since Ichigo had _two_ manifestations of the parts of his soul, did that mean _this_ inner world belonged to **it**? Ichigo reasoned with a slight shudder that if he only had his Hollow and no Zangetsu, _this_ would be the world he’d be pulled into every time he closed his eyes…maybe…

Now was not time to think about that.

But he had to admit he was curious.

He jumped to the side of the nearest gray building and began to look around. It was frustrating to see no noticeable speck of white anywhere, but that would have been too easy. **It** didn’t seem to want to be found, which was…a reason for concern? He thought briefly about searching for its Reiraku…but thought better of it. It was risky, but…time for plan B.

Force **it** out.

* * *

As he pulled on the undeniable “force” that was undoubtedly **_it_** , outside, in the real world, his reiatsu began to spew around him. It was like a steady jet from a faucet— and with the same endless supply to back it up. Or perhaps not so endless...

* * *

Something was wrong. Perhaps plan B wasn’t so good after all.

After a few minutes of standing in the red-hued world, he took notice of two things. The first was undeniably **it** , judging from the familiar dark reiatsu, and that he knew for _sure_ , even though **it** was fighting him, and fighting _hard_. The second was also a Hollow’s reiatsu, but it was much further away, more faint, if at all within his inner world.

Frowning, he immediately deduced that a Hollow was approaching in the real world. No, not when he was so close to reaching **it**! He almost had **it** , too, just for a second or so! He could fight a little longer! Taking a subconscious step forward, he put more of his attention to that closer _feeling_ …

Abruptly, he was knocked —literally— out of his mind. An unfathomable, searing pain slashed through the left side of his body, cutting his breath short as he let out a gasp. A red color flashed before his eyes and it was only when he came back to the real world that he realized it was blood. He found himself on the ground, the tree he had rested under cut in half, and unable to move the entire left side of his body.

Struggling to look up, he saw, of all Hollows, a Menos Grande eying him with a distinct look of hunger in its beady eyes. Apparently, what had hit him was actually its pointed foot. Still disoriented from being rudely pulled out of his mind and soul, it took a moment for him to pull himself together and get to his feet just before the Menos brought its enormous foot down again.

Regardless of the fact that he could barely move his left leg, he was on his feet and Zangetsu in his right hand. Harshly chiding himself for being so careless, he dodged the foot and sliced at it. As the Menos howled, he dodged its other foot and used a commandless Getsuga Tensho upwards, just barely without looking. Despite his own strength, he felt muddled and had already lost too much blood to focus; a strong metallic, rusty scent was thick in the air.

That’s what that “something wrong” was. He suddenly felt so… _weak_. He’d been through so much worse…Was this…because of _that_? It had to be. Damn it all!

Glancing up at the Menos, he ground his teeth together. It was still standing. Both of his attacks to its foot and arm only sliced them, but didn’t cut them in half. He couldn’t get his attacks to hit the damned thing properly. His knees quivered as he fought to stand and his breath came out in heavy pants.

…Why the hell didn’t he just pay attention…?


	4. Of Course (feat. Why?)

There was that accursed sound… _again_. It was a long, vibrating noise that seemed to come around to **it** every once in a while. It was closer than usual, this time. In fact, it never sounded so intense before. It was damn stubborn, that's what it was. But two could play that game.

 **It** managed to ignore the sound, sinking deeper and deeper into the insipid world, wondering if **it** should divulge into the **_deepest_** parts of the inner world if that's what it would take to make the sound go away. But even **it** knew that going _that_ far meant **it'd** probably never find a way out.

But **it** might try anyway. Kill some time…

_"…"_

…What…?

 **It** opened **its** eyes upon realizing something **it** never noticed before about that damned sound. **It** didn't… _really_ care…but as what **it** noticed, against **its** better judgment, captured **its** attention, **it** found **itself** listening just a… _little_ bit more carefully…

_"…!"_

…What…? That sounded like…

_"…ll…!"_

… **It** knew that voice. Second voice **it** ever heard…

Suddenly, **it** was taken by a strong, profound sensation of being _pulled_. What the…? Was that…?

The voice was panicked, urgent in tone…What was it saying? Against **its** resistance to keep from being _pulled_ , the Hollow listened even more closely…until **it** could finally make out:

_"Hollow!"_

A single echo. That one, single _echo_. Damn, it _was_ persistent.

…"Hollow"…huh…

If **it** remembered correctly, that was what **it** was called by **its** King, since **it** didn't have a name…

The realization then dawned on **it**. **It** started so abruptly, **it** nearly gave in to the pulling.

King was calling **it**.

…King. Was calling. **It**.

 **Its** King.

The pulling suddenly stopped, just as abruptly as it came. Something felt off.

The call could have been…might have been…was most likely…urgent. But why should **it** answer back? Oh…yes, of course. If the King croaked, **it** would disappear, too…and so would Zangetsu. But King did this, and _that_ , and everything else to _himself_. They told him what would happen. And this…this was just… _all his_ _fault_.

…Then again…it wasn’t fair to Zangetsu…

…Damned King.

So the Hollow decided to answer to the call of **its** King…perhaps what would be for the last time. Slowly, unsure of **its** own voice, **it** responded, _"…King?"_

* * *

Eyes widening, Ichigo let out a gasp of realization. That voice that had spoken within him…it wasn't Zangetsu's. He felt a wave of relief wash over him, but reeled it in as he called out in his mind, _"Hollow...? Is that really you?"_

The response didn't come immediately, almost sending him into a panic again. _"Che…"_ the voice finally scoffed, almost sadly.

He suddenly felt himself being pulled down, down into himself. Opening his eyes, he was once again lying on a building in his inner world. Zangetsu stood to his left, not too far from him, facing the even drearier sky. There was a ghost of a relieved expression on his face as well.

" **It's** back?" Ichigo asked him anxiously, jolting into an upright position.

The zanpakutō spirit nodded, closing his eyes and lowering his head. "Your call broke through."

* * *

The first thing the Hollow noticed when **it** took control of King's body was…how _bright_ everything was. Even behind **its** eyelids and even though the sun was setting, **it** could tell. **It** didn't like that. But beggars couldn't be choosers. When **it** opened **its** eyes, **it** also realized immediately that **it** was in a pool of blood, **its** King's blood, and this gave **it** a shock. King was still _so_ powerful…how the hell did he wind up nearly killing himself _this_ time? Then again, King could be _really_ stupid, too. Suddenly spurred on by angered thoughts, **it** stood with a snarl and took Zangetsu off the ground the second the Menos came back to finish it off.

The cloth wrap touching **its** skin and the weight of the sword brought back a feeling of nostalgia. **It** gave Zangetsu a brief and fond look-over, as if saying hello. And in a second, **it** sliced that pathetic, flimsy arm off the Menos. Was that _really_ all King did to it? Pa- _thetic_!

As the Menos let out a loud bellow of pain, stumbling back, **it** took notice of **its** hand, which didn't really belong to **it**. The hand had pigmentation, unlike **its** own which **it** knew had none. **Its** black —not white— shihakushō was also drenched in a beautiful, rich sanguine liquid; blood. **It** slowly clenched the hand into a fist, unable to stop **itself** from brandishing a grin long absent from **its** face.

This was the body of **its** King…Yeah. Even if **it** stayed in the inner world for years, **it** wouldn't trade death for a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity to do this…or _this_ …

Concentrating, **it** poured **its** energy into the blade in hand and called forth the assistance of Zangetsu. Sensing that the zanpakutō was more than happy to lend his power, **it** flashed **its** old signature, maniacal grin the very moment the enraged Menos was in an upright position and at _last_ powered a cero.

"HA! Getsuga…" —the Hollow raised **its** hand, feeling the red and black reiatsu surge through **it** and Zangetsu before swinging down— "TENSHŌ!"

In **its** eyes, it was _beautiful:_ mercilessly, smoothly, the Kuroi Getsuga cut through the cero and in turn sliced the Menos in half from its feet to very sky above. As it corroded away, the Menos' single wail rang out into the surrounding area. Such a beautiful echo…

The Menos' disappearance meant the twilight sun began shining directly at the Hollow. Hissing, **it** winced and turned away from the light, cursing under **its** breath. That seemed to remind **it** …how the hell did all of this start? Why was —is—King bleeding to begin with?

…Not that **it** _really_ cared.

 **It** was only the Horse, after all…

Replacing Zangetsu onto **its** —King's— back, **it** let out a sigh before taking in one more breath of fresh air…and then closed **its** eyes as **it** handed control back to King.

* * *

Back in the inner world, the Hollow opened **its** eyes to face the expanse that was a menacing dark grey sky. **It** scowled upon seeing it. Of course it was going to rain. Oh, no, not just _rain_ , it was going to freaking _pour_. Monsoon season-like. **It** heard a slight exhale from behind **it**. Right. King and Zangetsu. Something was telling **it** King wasn't going to let **it** off so easily. If **it** had **_its_** way, **it** wouldn't be dealing with him at all. But no, of course, Zangetsu wasn't going to let **it** off so easily, either. Fine. **It'll** give King a piece of **its** mind.

Ichigo's eyes had widened and he inhaled sharply upon seeing the familiar white figure suddenly appear, standing on the lower end of the building. There **it** was. So **it** existed after all. Well, of course he _knew_ that, but it was good to see **it** as confirmation. And judging by **its** rigid stance, **it** wasn't happy to see him. So much for being worried about **it**. And if **it** did exist, what was with all of the silence?

Furrowing his brows, he stood and approached **it**. "Oi…Hollow?" he called to **it**.

The Hollow winced. So that _was_ King's voice after all, calling to **it** , that time. Refusing to answer, **it** slightly turned **its** head to the side instead.

Realizing **it** wasn't in a mood to cooperate, Ichigo stopped his approach, leaving a nice amount of space between the two of them, though he was still closer to **it** than he was before. "…Thanks," he said. Not much for a conversation starter, but better than nothing.

The Hollow seemed to tense up even more. Was that a slight tremble?

 **It** swallowed, trying to ready **its** mouth to speak again. It felt like it had been so long since **it** had any _real_ conversation, even though it wasn't that long at all, and **it** knew this. Didn't change the…the… _feelings_ , damn them all.

After another short moment of silence, **it** finally spoke. "…What…the hell…was I supposed t'do, eh, _King_?" **it** responded slowly, quietly, practically spitting the last word. **Its** voice was low, more warbled than usual, and **it** sounded unsure of **its** own voice. "Let'cha die? _Tch_ …it would’ve been…a _shame_ ," **it** continued, the exaggerated, cutting tone of **its** voice slicing through the tension in the air.

Ichigo's scowl deepened, but he decided to let **its** attitude slide. He had a _purpose_ , here. "…I was wondering what happened to you. You seemed to have disappeared."

This was new to the Hollow. But then, of course, **it** had practically barred **itself** within the depths of King's soul. **It** wasn't even sure exactly just _how_ much time had passed, though **it** was aware it couldn't possibly be as long as it seemed.

But that **_bastard_** …had the nerve…

" _Bullshit_ , Ichigo," **it** hissed smoothly. Anger was so natural to **it**. "It's your powers you're really worried 'bout, righ'?"

"No, I'm not!" Ichigo shouted, surprised it would think that way. Sort of. "I thought something had _happened_ to you!"

"Oh, _sure_ , King's worried 'bout me…" **it** whispered, more to **itself** than to Ichigo. **Its** fists clenched at **its** sides. Bullshit. _Bullshit, bullshit… **bullshit**. _ Wisps of **its** black and red reiatsu began to form in a ring around **it** , but only for a second.

And in the next second, Ichigo's face was grabbed by **its** pastel white hand and, before he knew it, was thrown into the side of one of the buildings. He let out a violent cough upon impact, spitting out saliva, stuck in the spiderwebbed cracks made in the wall. Grimacing, he looked at **it** — and his eyes widened. And he stared.

Since when were **its** irises… _white_?

Having just thrown him, **it** remained in a rigid pose, slightly leaning over and with **its** right hand's fingers still bent from grasping his face. It was true. **Its** sclera were still black, as were **its** pupils…but **its** irises, instead of that familiar gold like other Hollows, were pure white. "You fuckin' _disgust me_ ," **it** growled at him, **its** top lip pulled back over its teeth in a snarl.

 **It** looked positively _enraged_. The whites of **its** orbs, that is, **its** irises, seemed to glow menacingly from within the darkness that made up the rest of **its** eyes. The change made **it** somehow seem even more impossibly like a Hollow, even though Ichigo had never seen a Hollow with white irises before…

Upon noticing his scrutiny and the shock upon his face, **it** straightened out and made a mock smile, because that expression couldn't possibly be a happy one. "That's it, _King_!" **It** raised **its** arms and waved one hand over **itself** , as if on presentation. "I'm 'ere! Always been! But who th' fuck would wanna give _a bastard like **you**_ their powers when y'don't even know how t'treat 'em, huh? Gotta be a better King than that!"

And **its** voice…It really was lower and more warbled. And…was it always that menacing?

"...What are you talking about…?" Ichigo asked, cautiously breaking away from the building's side.

 **It** narrowed **its** orbs, then reached and took **its** Zangetsu off **its** back, grabbing the black wrap with **its** left hand. Ichigo knew that stance. He only had a moment to ready himself before **it** disappeared in a whiz of sonído or shunpō to appear closer in midair with **its** Zangetsu shooting like an arrow towards him. "I'm taking about your _fucking arrogance_! Your _naivety_!" **it** yelled as the attack hit and broke through the building, causing it to fall.           

Ichigo had dodged just in time, appearing behind **it** , but raised Zangetsu to block a second, rapid attack as **it** swung **its** white zanpakutō around to hit him from behind.

"It _pisses me off_!"

Rushing forward, pulling **its** Zangetsu back, **it** landed a sweeping kick into his chest, grabbing **its** Zangetsu at the same time **it** appeared at his side. As Ichigo flew into yet another building, **it** shot a Getsuga Tenshō after the wind knocked out of him. Ichigo had only the chance to see the attack coming before it landed on him and cried out from the impact.

Standing in midair, **it** looked down at the falling buildings, expressionless save the fury in **its** dark eyes. "So you thought'cha knew eve'rythin' there was t'know about me jus’ 'cause you could use my mask?!" **it** yelled after him. "Didn't you learn _anythin' '_ bout this with Zangetsu?!"

The smoke cleared to find Ichigo on one of the lower buildings, his left eye closed from blood trickling down from his forehead. "What the hell are you doing?!" he practically screamed at **it**. He didn't come to fight!

"HA!" **It** grinned at the expression on his face, quickly lowering **itself** and hefting **its** Zangetsu onto **its** shoulder.

Ichigo jumped to one of the other buildings and then back around to the lower half of first building they began fighting on, wiping his eye on his shoulder sleeve and as he looked around.

"Guard's down~!"

 _Again_ , his face was grabbed and, like reverse impact, was sent flying towards another side of a building. This time, however, he caught himself just before he could end up crashing into it, gathering himself so as to not fall for that again.

The Hollow appeared a distance from him, **its** face contorted with a passionate grimace, liquid eyes glowing as **it** glared at him. **Its** white Zangetsu was held tightly in **its** right hand, trembling as **it** asked, "After all this time, when'd you _ever_ give two shits 'bout me? Why th' _hell_ should I trust you? All you've ever done is _fight_ me or _abuse_ my powers," **it** suddenly narrowed **its** orbs into dangerous slants, "or d'ya know somethin' _I_ don't? DOUBTFUL!"

"Abuse your powers?!" Ichigo shouted back, only slightly confused now, but more angry than anything else. "When have I done that?!"

A look of disgust crossed **its** face. "You fuckin' me?" **It** glowered. "Are you so _stupid_?" **it** bellowed, allowing Ichigo to truly hear that _darker_ undertone to **its** voice. **It** shot out a commandless, discolored Getsuga Tenshō. "Do I have t'explain—

Ichigo dodged that one.

 _“every_ — Another.

 _“little_ — _Another_.

 _“thing_ — Again.

"TO YOU?!" Holding **its** Zangetsu by the wrap, **it** swung it hard and rapidly over **its** head, shooting a volley of slanted, miniature Getsuga Tenshō from the blade in his direction.

 **It** propelled **itself** through the air after the attacks still spiraling and shooting towards him; he had dodged the first and repelled the first of the others, but the smaller ones came like a hail of large bullets behind those.

He raised Zangetsu. "Getsuga Tenshō!" The attack cut through the first larger ones, causing an explosion where the Hollow had stood just seconds before as it hit the buildings behind. Grimacing, he used shunpō to move further up the building, now closer to where Zangetsu was. Sensing the Hollow approaching, he raised his sword, and in that second, they clashed.

White hit black as **it** swung down hard on his blade, still in midair and he still on the building. A slightly familiar smirk was on **its** face, but those _eyes_ …

"I'm _not_ here to fight you!" he said, causing the smirk to disappear from **its** face. "I want to talk t—"

Again, **it** ignored him. "Getsuga Tenshō."

" _Agh!_ " One building, two, three, four Ichigo broke through from the attack, putting a hole in the one he had stood on a moment before.

 **It** laughed humorlessly, but not that crazed cackle he was used to. This was a booming, echoing and short _shriek_. "It's your own fault you're so weak!" **it** shouted after him. "But to _call me out_? That's _too far_ , Ichigo, too far…!"

 _Call him out…?_ Getting up from his position against the wall, his shihakushō beginning to become tattered, but surprisingly not bleeding anywhere else, Ichigo glanced up to **it**. **It** was still in midair, head suddenly lowered and holding **its** Zangetsu limply in hand. When had he called **it** …? Was **it** talking about that one time? He jumped into the air, on level with **it** from atop the building beside the hole he fell through.

"…That sound…" **it** murmured, but Ichigo could barely understand **it** over the low warbles of **its** own voice. "I wanted it t'go away…just _shut **up**_ …! Wouldn't stop echoing, wouldn't go away…and these… _feelings_ …" **It** placed a hand on **its** head, grimacing slightly.

Watching, Ichigo slightly narrowed his eyes, slowly connecting a few theories of his own together. Now that he thought about it, **it** _was_ …No, that's impossible, right…?

Snapping **its** head up, **it** seemed to come out of a trance, pupils contracting to normal size as if they were previously dilated. "But like I had a choice, huh?" **it** asked him. "Even I'm not so thick in the head I'd let you die because of your _own_ stupidity! So I helped out!"

"I know that!" he responded, going on guard when **it** had looked back up.

 **It** suddenly and visibly twitched at his words, taking a step back and grasping **its** head again, eyes slightly closing as **it** softly groaned.

Concerned, Ichigo took a step forward, but **it** raised **its** Zangetsu between them in a shaking hand, growling at him. "…I hate…this…" **it** whispered, but Ichigo couldn't hear it. "I… _hate_ this…" Reiatsu flared around **it** as the zanpakutō's black cloth began to wrap around **its** arm.

Eyes widening, Ichigo, too, went into the familiar stance, knowing he didn't have much of a chance otherwise. "Wait a minu—!"

" _I HATE THIS!_ Ban—!"

_"—KAI!"_

Black-red and white-red reiatsu swirled around their respective owners as the cries rang out. Even before the reiatsu died down, the two doubles were already locked in combat, disappearing and reappearing in the sky as black and white streaks. Attacks rang out in the empty world, buildings breaking left and right. Ichigo was on the defensive, his Hollow purely berserk on the offensive.

Zangetsu watched them clash in the sky and all around him, still on his pole and following their movement when he could with his eyes. When they were out of his view, he closed his eyes and listened. This was purely between Ichigo and his Hollow. He was aware of the situation and had been for a long time, that Ichigo wasn't exactly the best…King, as the Hollow called him. That was the point **it** was trying to make. But there was also something else bothering **it** …

He knew what that was, too.

He opened his previously closed eyes as Ichigo was slammed onto the far end of the building. His Hollow was pressing **its** blade so hard against his, **it** was practically on top of him.

"You… _arrogant_ …You think _thanking me_ _NOW_ means anything?!" **it** shouted, eyes blazing white fire.

Ichigo shook his head, exasperated and angry that **it** wanted to continue this pointless fighting, and used all his might to push **it** away from him without making the shove an attack. "I **don't** want to fight you!" he said, letting down all guards. It was a risk, but he was hoping that would get **it** to stop.

 **Its** eyes widened, seeming to find this and his action to be an insult as **it** made a sort of throaty clicking, almost sputtering sound, the ghost of a strange emotion flickering in **its** ebony pools. " _No_ , Ichigo, you'll _damn well_ _FIGHT ME_!" **it** snarled, stepping forward and grabbing him by his coat. "I've been bored shitless, I deserve a proper fight! FIGHT ME!"

He knocked **its** hand away, glaring at **it**. "I refuse. We _don't_ have time for this!"

"Don't talk t'me…" **its** hand clenched into a fist "about _time_!" And **its** hand went out.

He wasn't exactly sure how it happened so fast. Ichigo held his breath, staring at the arm that now looked as if **it** was sticking out of the dead center of his chest. Huh. Well, wasn't this…ironic…To receive a hole in the same spot from the very creature that he turned into upon receiving a similar wound from his battle with Ulquiorra…

The Hollow, too, seemed frozen for a moment. And then, stoic in expression, **it** must have done _something_ with **its** fingers, because a strange and _excruciating_ sensation erupted in Ichigo's chest, causing him to grab the arm and let out a gasp in pain, his legs quavering to give out.

"…Hol…" he gasped, just as **it** forcibly pulled out **its** hand, causing him to groan. He stumbled back, placing his hand over his wound, but did not lower to his knees. No. That much he knew he _could not_ _do_.

 **It** glanced at him, and then to **its** bloody hand. Softly, **it** said, "…Still…you don't deserve my powers…"

Ichigo glanced up at **it**. It even felt as if the fight was finally over. Just like that. Just _like that_? But who won, exactly?

"Only time you ever did…was when you defeated me, but even _then_. You were missin' a vital piece to the puzzle…"

He then witnessed that strange emotion once again return to his Hollow's eyes, only this time, it stayed, held there in **its** gaze as **it** looked at him. What he saw shocked him.

"…What am I to you, huh?" **it** asked. **It** didn't sound angry. **It** didn't even sound bitter. Ichigo could only hear and _see_ what he couldn't believe was sadness. "Y'got over seein' me as something you could get rid of, but what about everythin’ else? A nuisance. 'That _thing_ '. 'My Hollow powers'. 'My Hollow'." **It** shook **its** head, the lower rims of **its** dark eyes rising in a sort of squint as **its** head slightly tilted to the side. "Am I really?"

Panting heavily, he lowered his head for a moment. _Why is it sad?_ "…Stop it with your riddles…" he breathed, looking back up, "and just _tell me what I did wrong_!"

The emotion in **its** eyes immediately disappeared, replaced with rage once more. " _Everything_! You don't use your _head_ , you don't _think_ about _anything!_ " **It** lowered **its** hands, the white double of Zangetsu going limp in hand. Again **it** slightly shook **its** head, looking away. "Ichigo…Time after time…I heard it, felt it. 'I'm sorry, Zangetsu', 'I see, Zangetsu', 'Talk to me, Zangetsu', 'I'll get better, Zangetsu,' ' _We_ did it, Zangetsu,' ' _We_ will, Zangetsu', …' _Thank you_ , Zangetsu'."

Ichigo's eyes slightly widened, but only for a moment. He slightly lowered his head, eyes downcast as he glanced away.

 **Its** left hand clenched. "How’m _I_ any diff’rent from him _to you_?" **it** asked, looking at him again, even though he couldn't see **it**. He knew **it** hated it, just as much as he couldn't believe he thought he heard it, or maybe he did, but he _could_ hear the honest desire to want the truthful answer to the question.

He had none.

Zangetsu closed his eyes, despite the fact that they were within his eyesight.

Personally, **it** was glad he wasn't looking at **it**. Not while **it** was talking like this. **It** wasn't sure where these thoughts and _feelings_ were coming from, but they needed to be let out. "You needed my powers an' I let you after you _earned_ it. Gave you the right. And _then_ _what_? Y'just use me an' then throw me away. Store me away, whatever, until you need to use me again. Rinse and repeat. An' what could I do? You're th’ fuckin' _King._ Each time I tried to fight you, you _owned_ me.

"You don't deserve the right to use my _true_ power, power you've probably never even considered me havin'. Y'think Zangetsu's the only part of you that grows an’ learns an’ gets stronger? What did I tell you? _I_ used Getsuga Tenshō in bankai first! And how th’ _hell_ do you think _we_ defeated Ulquiorra?!"

At this, Ichigo's expression changed to a look of surprise and he looked back at **it**. He was, in fact, confused. _We?_

The glower had returned. "But instead y’just think 'I've got to conquer **it**. I've got to _subdue_ **it**. I've got to fight **it**.'" **It** scoffed, disgust and… _hurt_ in **its** tone as **it** glared at him. "And y’got th’ _nerve_ to wonder why I wanna _fight you_.

“…I… ** _hate_** _you_ ," **it** said slowly, enouncing every word smoothly. And did they _bite_. "I dunno why I kept thinkin'…kept believin' you'd wise up. Seems so stupid, now. And now _that_. It's creepin' up. You can feel it. We can, too, Zangetsu an' me, and it hurts us, too."

 **It** glanced at Zangetsu for a moment, **its** gaze softening. But only for a second. **Its** gaze was even harder and harsher than before as **it** looked over Ichigo's whole form. "…So the Horse'll be put down after the King is sentenced to death…" **it** muttered, and then, again, that sadness returned to **its** eyes as **it** turned from him and began to walk away, "…alone…"

As **it** walked away, he reached out, as if that could stop **it** from going. "Wait! Hollow!" he called, taking a step forward.

 **It** stopped suddenly. And **it** shook, literally trembling. For a second Ichigo braced himself for another attack. But to his surprise, nothing came. Instead, **it** lowered **its** head. "… _Hollow_ …huh?" he heard **it** murmur. "Shallow, empty, violent…an’ a _pain in the ass_ , eh…?"

And then **it** slowly turned to face him. Ichigo's eyes widened in horror at _that_ _look_. **Its** gaze was so _intense_ , so full of unrestrained and _pure_ **_hatred_** , he was finding it hard to believe they all thought **it** never had emotion before.

With a crazed but definitely _not happy_ grin, **it** positively _growled_ , " _Fuck_ you too, Ichigo."

 **It** then jumped to the next building at **its** right, using shunpō (…or was that sonído?) to move further away as fast as possible before he could form any words from within his mind.

* * *

Ichigo continued to stare at the void where the Hollow had stood, but his gaze went beyond that. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't sure anymore. Where should he start? _How_ would he start? The situation was worse, much worse than he ever _imagined_ …

Was **it** …always like that? Perhaps before **it** obtained emotion, **it** had these indications within **it** alluding to feelings that **it** couldn't express? And then…overload.

What had he _done_? How could he be so _stupid_? There were hints, weren't there, and he missed them completely. And like the idiot he was, he went _on_ about his ignorant way…misu _s_ ing **it** …neglecting **it** …ignoring **it**. It seemed so obvious, or at least a little like there was always _something else_ , now, of course, but…was he too late?

His eyes at last flickered away from that spot as he glanced over at Zangetsu. The zanpakutō spirit's gaze was downcast, but his face was unreadable. Did Zangetsu harbor feelings against him, too, for doing what he did? Most likely. Ichigo's shoulders slightly slumped. This wasn't what he wanted at all.

And in a flash of thunder, it began to pour. Within seconds, he immediately understood why Zangetsu and, he figured, his Hollow despised the rain so. The rain was cold. So, so cold. So heavy. In the enormous world, he suddenly felt so lonely, despite Zangetsu in his presence. Each raindrop contained the feelings causing the very rain itself to pour. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. So much guilt. Closing his eyes, Ichigo lowered his head. He would stay to experience this suffering he was inflicting on them. It was the very least he could do, not knowing what else to. It didn't feel right to leave his inner world just yet.

After standing in the rain for a few moments, he slightly opened his eyes and placed his hand over his slowly healing chest wound, but kept his head lowered. "…Was I… _so_ wrong?" he asked softly, sadly, his voice drowned out by the sound of the rain and rumbles of thunder. But it was a rhetoric question, of course. He knew he was. Perhaps he was asking his younger self, from just months ago, that question.

Why was he so wrong?

* * *

It was raining. Of course it was raining. **It** knew it would. Hard. That bastard was guilty. Angry…Sad? Why was he sad? Grasping **its** head with both hands, **it** let out a loud cry that mixed with the clapping of thunder. These _emotions_ were driving it _insane!_ Why did **it** care, anyway? Wasn't this all _his_ fault?

Frustrated, **it** clenched **its** pale hands into fists, closing **its** eyes and crouched down. So why did **it** hurt so much? Why was **it** so angry at **itself**? **It** didn't do anything wrong, right?

Why?

Why?

_Why?_

**It** suddenly pounded **its** fists into the building, causing cracks to form down the building's side. With a shriek of anger, **it** continued to slam at the building below until **it** felt the ground nearly give away. **It** then abruptly grabbed **its** head with both hands, eyes wide as **it** suddenly realized something. Maybe that's what it was…Maybe **it** _did_ do something wrong.

 **It** was the Horse…so **it** was supposed to carry the King until death or let go, right? **It** had stopped lending Ichigo **its** power…and so **it** had failed him. But then again, was what happened, being ignored, considered being "let go"? Or maybe forget the fact that Ichigo rarely used **its** power at all… **it** was still supposed to be there, right?

The Horse that was let go…was still supposed to wait to service the King again…

…Right…?

Slumping down, the Hollow went to **its** knees and clenched **its** teeth as **it** grimaced. **It** was so _unsure_. These thoughts and feelings…This wasn't the way **it** normally would have thought before. **It** didn’t need to think in the past, **it** just _knew_. But now…Something was hurting. **It** clenched a fist over **its** chest, directly where a heart would be, scowling darkly at the pouring, gloomy world.

 _Why_ …was it so hard to understand…?


	5. Hollow Be My Name

An hour had passed until the rain finally let off in Ichigo’s inner world. And it was then that he decided to leave. The dark clouds remained, but at least the worst of his emotions were under control.

Opening his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground and on his back, right where his Hollow left him in the debris of the decimated tree. Though the sun had set, the sky was still a darker blue. Slowly sitting upright, he realized he was still injured. With a grimace, he quietly thanked Zangetsu for sealing the wounds.

He briefly considered going to someone to heal up quickly, but then decided it was better to heal on his own for once. Maybe if he let himself heal properly more often, his body would become used to it and naturally heal faster. With a sigh, he got to his feet, only acknowledging the pain in his left foot, and took a few test steps before using shunpō to return to Karakura Town.

He arrived back home with a sort of distant air around him and no longer covered in blood from washing off in a stream. Kon was in his room, listening to some of his CDs while reading a book on the floor, of all things. Upon seeing Ichigo enter through the window, he placed one earpiece aside and raised an eyebrow.

“What the heck happened to _you_?” he asked incredulously at the teen’s disheveled state. “Arrancar or something?”

Wordlessly, Ichigo took up his Shinigami badge from his desk and pressed it to his body’s forehead, causing it go limp as Kon’s pill form popped out of its –his– mouth. He then took up Kon’s plush body and placed his pill form into its mouth.

“HEY!” Kon hissed, looking genuinely annoyed. “What giv—?”

“I just…” Ichigo began, placing him rather gently on his desk. He entered his body and sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair and looking weary as he sighed. “I don’t want to hear it right now, okay, Kon? Not tonight,” he said softly.

Blinking, all the more incredulous, Kon crossed his arms and looked the teen over, but said nothing else. Ichigo was being nice to him and seemed pretty out of it, so…he’d be nice this time, too. He let out a soft “Hmph”, jumping down from the desk. “You missed dinner. I managed to have Yuzu put some aside, if you want some…” he murmured from somewhere in the room; Ichigo didn’t care to look.

“…Thanks, Kon.”

* * *

Days passed. By then, it had become obvious to Ichigo _that_ was starting. That single incident in the forest seemed to have been the beginning of it all. For one, and the most obvious, was that he was weaker, or was having moments and bouts of feeling weaker. Then there were the sporadic “episodes”, as he called them, which were the _real_ dilemma. Normal day-to-day activity wasn’t a problem, even during the episodes, as he would only _feel_ it more than anything else, but when he was out and about in his spirit form, the attacks _physically_ hurt him.

He knew he should perhaps tell someone, but it wasn’t exactly as if no one else knew he was going to lose his powers. _When_ he would was the problem. And what if he lost his powers during a fight with a Hollow? What would happen to his spirit form? The more he thought about it, the more questions popped up, and the more he became anxious. So he did the next best thing.

He stopped thinking about it.

Knowing it was going to happen and keeping that in mind was good enough. 

As for his Hollow…

 **It** went back to being unresponsive, but when he searched out for **it** within his soul, he could feel **it** this time. A part of him wondered if the reason had anything to do with being in contact with **it** again, however brief. He tried not to do that too often, though. **It** seemed to know when **it** was being sought out and well, he didn’t want to bother **it** more than **it** already was.

He still didn’t know what to do about that. Between school, studies, the occasional Hollow, and thoughts about his _human_ future, he had his plate full already. But this was important. He had to get this done _before_ that very human future. So he visited his inner world as often as possible, just to spend time with Zangetsu and think.

Real-world issues took up most of his time during the days after that unpleasant event in his inner world. He wasn’t ready just yet, and knew his father knew this, but moving out from home was something that he was already planning on. He had about thirteen months to start saving and job-searching, so now was better than ever. That is, aside from the obvious. Then it wasn’t exactly good timing. After all, his father wasn’t attacking him about it. Yet.

He was already pursuing his plan to become a DJ, but that was a long way off. The only thing he could really do to help support that were improve his knowledge of music, music taste and CD, record and vinyl collection, get some _very_ good (and expensive) headphones and a good microphone. Anything else was going to have to come after he got a good or even temporary job.

Thus the kicker. What job?

* * *

Ichigo sighed as he sat at his desk, his school books before him, but his mind elsewhere, yet again. He had drawn doodles in his textbook…and with a pen, too. But he was too preoccupied to care much about that, either. He was troubled by…everything. He had his mind on his Hollow, some of his studies and was second-guessing what he would do after graduating. He even wondered about what happened to the Vizards…

He shook his head as he gave up putting solutions and answers together, dropping his pen and pushing himself back from his desk as he stared at the ceiling. He could really use their help, the Vizards. Maybe they could help him…but not even he was sure how they could have. His “problem” was more of the personal sort. He had mistreated his Hollow in many different insensitive, careless ways, so **it** wasn’t letting him use **its** powers. And hated his guts. More importantly, he was concerned for **its** wellbeing. There was definitely something more than just neglect and the like bothering **it**. Feeling responsible for everything, he truly wanted to set things right.

His mind made up, he ripped out a sheet of paper from a notebook and set it on the desk. First thing’s first, he had to give his Hollow a name. He couldn’t just keep calling **it** “Hollow”; that was something he did realize was very obviously bothering **it**. Not to mention even he had to admit it was rude, like addressing someone by their gender or species when annoyed with or insulting them.

Picking up his pen, he pondered hard for a suitable name. It couldn’t be too obvious…like Hichigo; “H” for “Hollow” and adding it to his name. That was…silly. He wanted it to be something more unique than that. With a roll of his eyes for even coming _up_ with it, he decided to put the name on the top of his list anyway.

…Was there anything even remotely unique about his name spelled _backwards_? He stared skeptically at the names _Ogihci_ and _Shirosaki_. Ogihci just sounded like some sort of pain reliever…in another language. And it wasn’t as if the Hollow was a literal opposite of himself. He crossed out that name, but kept Shirosaki for the hell of it; “Shiro” for white, that color being **its** most obvious feature and ironically the color opposite of that part of his own last name…

Tapping the pen to his chin, he decided to focus on something as a foundation. Zangetsu was a bit like his Hollow; they were both a part of his soul and shared the same form. Zangetsu’s name meant “Slaying Moon”…not to mention, now that he thought about it, the only name his Hollow ever called **itself** was also “Zangetsu”…

…Wait a minute…

He frowned, murmuring Zangetsu’s voice aloud. _Zan…getsu._ Why was there something missing? No, not from Zangetu’s name, but from somewhere else. A name. He needed a name. Did his Hollow always have a name? His mind went back to that day in the Shattered Shaft, when he began to turn into a Hollow. He could never forget that. The feeling of a void growing where a heart was…the desperation. The determination. The white coming from his mouth, eyes…White…

Suddenly hit by a sort of insight or realization, he put a few names together using Zangetsu’s in mind, as well as the emotions and memories from his time his Hollow was “born”, letting whatever came to him flow from his mind to the paper. After only a minute, he picked up the paper and smiled at what he came up with. He murmured the name aloud to himself a few times, letting it roll off his tongue. It was perfect. It _felt_ perfect. It seemed so familiar, like something he forgot long ago…

Feeling good about the progress, he placed the paper back down and crossed out all of the names except the last one. All he hoped now was that his Hollow liked it, too.

Now…how to approach **it** when **it** very _obviously_ wished to have nothing to do with him?

* * *

He arrived in the city park shortly after sunset. After that time in the forest, he decided it was a gamble, but was still quite sure nothing would happen within his inner world that would cause him to _possibly_ do anything that might affect the surroundings of the real world. He thought with a slight twinge of regret upon seeing **its** face in his mind’s eye from that time that **it** wasn’t even interested in what **it** always seemed so passionately interested in since day one: taking control of his body…Though that should be a good thing…what did he _do_ to **it** …?

He smacked those thoughts aside. Not time for that, now.

Just as he found a rather comfortable looking tree to sit under further within the greenery, he groaned and stumbled forward as a particularly painful episode hit him. Leaning against another tree, he closed his eyes and tried to level his uneven breathing as the pain swelled from within the very center of his being to the tips of his head, fingers, toes, _everywhere_ …before going away. Just like that.

With a shaky exhale, he opened his eyes and slowly reached the selected tree. Sliding down to the grass below and sitting into a cross-legged position, he inhaled deeply before entering his inner world.

* * *

He opened his eyes to find himself lying on the side of one of the buildings. Huh. So that was why the clouds were falling in what would be the _right_ direction. But why was he lying down to begin with? He sat up, which was only slightly painful, and looked around.

Zangetsu was looking back at him from across the building, standing on his flagpole, as always. Sighing, he stood and was about to open his mouth when he sensed someone _else_ within the world.

Wide eyed, he faced the source of the familiar dark reiatsu to see a nearly invisible white speck further down the building. _Much_ further down the bloody building. He looked at Zangetsu, who was still looking at him. Ichigo gave his partner a slight and somewhat awkward smile. Count on Zangetsu to know these things. “Thanks, Ossan.”

He then used shunpō to approach **it** , but only to an extent. As he came closer, he noticed **it** was standing, slightly facing the left, and looking towards the sky, absolutely still and lax. He once again left a very good distance between them, about fifteen feet, if not more. The last thing he wanted **it** to do was attack him for coming into **its** personal space.

Even after a minute of standing there, **it** didn’t move an inch. Once again, he was going to have to make the first move. Tentatively, he said, “Oi…”

 **It** twitched at the sound of his voice.

Better than nothing.

“I’d like to talk to you,” he said.

There was a moment of silence before a soft scoff resounded from **it** , but nothing was said.

Was **it** not even _talking_ to him now?

Ichigo slightly shook his head at himself, sighing softly. This was unbelievable. “…You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

This time, **it** made no sound at all.

“…Please.”

Another twitch. He watched as **its** visible left hand slowly clenched into a shaking fist before going lax again.

Still nothing, and this time he waited two minutes.

He sighed. “…I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said quietly before turning around and returning to the higher end of the building where Zangetsu was.

The zanpakutō spirit was looking towards **its** direction this time. Ichigo glanced behind himself to see the last of the white speck slowly disappear before closing his eyes and sitting down.

Now what?

“It wasn’t going to be easy,” Zangetsu reminded him.

“…I know that, but…” Letting out a soft “ _Tsk_ ” of disappointment, Ichigo looked away, quiet for a moment. “…What have I done, Zangetsu?” he asked quietly. Once again, it was a rhetoric question.

Zangetsu answered anyway. “You were young and careless. Since before you became a Shinigami, you’ve only seen Hollows as threats to be eliminated.”

“...It actually sucks that you’re on my side.”

“I observe and understand both views,” Zangetsu said simply. “I am not taking sides.”

And for that, Ichigo was sincerely thankful. He wouldn’t know what to do if both parts of his soul had feelings against him. In fact, as he thought with a slight shudder, he couldn’t even imagine Zangetsu _hating_ him…

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

At this, Zangetsu looked at him, speechless with surprise.

“For that time, when I was young and careless, thoughtless. I must have hurt you, too.”

Bowing his head, Zangetsu made a soft hum of agreement and approval. “You’ve grown, Ichigo,” was all he said with a smile.

A smile formed on the teen’s face. A small weight felt lifted from him.

A comfortable silence passed between them. He closed his eyes briefly before looking towards the sky— that is, the break of sky and sideways buildings. “Ossan?” he asked. “How did you learn your name?”

Judging by the conversation he heard Ichigo have with himself, Zangetsu figured this question would be asked sooner or later. He looked to Ichigo to see tawny eyes looking at him curiously. “When you were born, I was born,” he explained, “though I went unnamed for a time. Soon after your birth, as you grew, your innermost subconscious spoke a name that I recognized as my own. From the moment I heard it, I knew it had always belonged to me.”

 _From the moment_ …Nodding, Ichigo briefly closed his eyes, imagining of what could have been: a younger, child version of himself within his inner world, talking to Zangetsu upon his pole and learning his name…

Perhaps there was another name his soul had been whispering.

“…There’s another name,” he murmured.

“Have you heard it?” Zangetsu asked.

“Yeah…Once I took notice of it, it seemed to come on its own…” Opening his eyes, Ichigo looked slightly concerned. “How come I’ve learned it on my own?” Why was _he_ going to be the one telling **it**?

Zangetsu was quiet for a moment. He then looked from Ichigo to the sky. “We were born differently. Perhaps naming your Hollow is something _you_ must consciously do.”

This made sense. Not to mention **its** reason for existing seemed and was most likely completely different from Zangetsu’s. After a moment, Ichigo remembered a question that he meant to ask a while back. “And the emotions…” he began quietly, as if to himself.

“Obtained, perhaps, from when we merged.”

“…Ah…” So that really _was_ his fault, just as **it** said it was. “…Do you think that’s a good thing?”

“…I do not know.”

Frowning, Ichigo lowered his head. If Zangetsu was unsure, then he really _did_ have to do something about it. “These episodes are only getting worse,” he said suddenly, more to himself than to Zangetsu. “But,” he began, standing up and continuing to look into the distance of his sideways world, a familiar shine in his eyes, “I’m not completely human _yet_.” He looked at Zangetsu, a grateful smile on his face. “Thanks.”

The zanpakutō spirit nodded, giving a small, vaguely sad smile. “Anytime.”

* * *

Thus was the routine from that day forward: Ichigo would enter his inner world, usually around the same time, and approach his Hollow. He kept the interactions short, only asking to talk to **it**. The first time he did after that day, **it** once again remained silent and facing away from him. Same on the second day. And the third. And the fourth. And so on and so fourth until a week passed.

He had episodes on all of those days, but none were as bad as the first, nor did they all happen while he was in his Shinigami form.

Then on the eighth day, **it** scoffed at him again. He couldn’t help himself. He playfully told **it** after **it** did that he could have sworn **it** was making fun of him. And then **it** scoffed again, but with a sort of actual _emotion_ behind it instead of simply scoffing. He didn’t know whether to continue talking or leave, so he left, telling **it** he’d be back again.

He didn’t catch the twitch **it** made after he turned to leave.

On the ninth day, after he asked to talk to **it** , **it** was quiet again.

On the tenth day, he had an episode within his inner world. He _dreaded_ having episodes within his inner world. They hurt the most. They made him disoriented, delirious, twitching in pain and gasping for it to stop, his inner world seeming to shudder and quake before his eyes. And he hated seeing the hurt expression on Zangetsu’s face more than anything.

That day, the second day he ever had an episode within his inner world, was the day that **it** finally spoke to him.

* * *

…Alright. So it was King’s fault.

But what about this: he was suffering just as much as they were, if not more.

King was strong, but now there was something bothering _him_. Something weighing _him_ down. _He_ wasn’t even complaining about it. Searching through his thoughts, it was even apparent that perhaps…King did care after all…

 _Che_.

…Fine.

 **It’ll** talk.

 **It** was curious to know what the bastard had to say, anyways.


	6. Bonus Track: All the King's Men

He lay on his side, facing Zangetsu’s pole, his lips pressed into a firm line and eyes squeezed shut. It was almost over. He couldn’t move. He could never move, at least not willingly; the twitches he made he couldn’t control. He could only move his eyes, and even that hurt. He always rather have his eyes closed. He didn’t want to see the world quake before him, under him, around him, and that _pain_ …

Yes, it was best not to move his eyes.

A slight groan escaped him, his body tensing and shaking as the last of the swelling pain built up everywhere within him. He felt his hands clench at the ground, as if by reflex, and his eyes flickered as he struggled to keep them closed.

He then slowly exhaled, his features softening, as the agony and tension subsided. Just like that. Every time it went away, his body felt the remnants of the pain as ghostlike sensations. But his mind never forgot the feeling. So he kept his eyes closed, simply flexing his fingers gently against the building and moving his eyes under his eyelids. He still refused to open them.

The sound of movement suddenly caught his attention. Shortly after, he felt a familiar cool hand rest on his forehead. It felt good, just the opposite of his once-burning body. He groaned softly, opening his eyes. His vision was blurry, but there was something white in front of him. He slowly blinked, his eyes slightly squinting as he tried to focus. The hand moved away as he raised his head to get a good look at **it** …

Wait a minute?!

He jolted into an upright position, staring at **it** as **it** stared right back, dark eyes and features expressionless as **it** crouched at an arm’s length beside him, balancing on the balls of **its** feet. He then suddenly rolled his eyes into his head, closing them as he lay back down, groaning loudly and holding his head. He shouldn’t have done that…

 **It** scoffed at him, but the feeling behind it was of annoyance. Yeah, that was pretty stupid, getting up like that. **It** watched as he sat back up, slowly this time, and looked at Zangetsu. The zanpaktō spirit nodded at him.

Ichigo then snapped his head to **it** , as if to catch it before **it** moved away. “…Are you alright?” he asked.

 **It** glanced at him blankly before standing and began to walk away.

Ichigo jumped to his feet, not about to let his opportunity slip. “Hey! Wait!” he called.

 **It** stopped, but kept its back to him. They were right back to that…

But this time that didn’t bother Ichigo nor was it going to stop him. He wasn’t going to _ask_ for **its** permission. He just couldn’t wait any longer, not with this looming over him, these feelings eating at him. “I know this isn’t the best timing, but…I’ve been thinking about it for a while, now,” he said.

Slightly turning **its** head to the side, **its** hands clenched at **its** sides.

He ignored that, pressing on. “I’ve given you a name.” He was slightly surprised when **it** turned **its** head completely to the side, **its** one visible eye widened with shock before slowly dissolving into a dark, distrustful glare. With a sigh, shaking his head and crossing his arms, he said, “Don’t look at me like that. It’s a good one.” He made sure not to sound unsure. He wasn’t.

The glare slowly dissolved into a confused, cautious stare.

He shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t hear it. Deal with it, I’m telling you now.”

 **It** scoffed, the eye rolling, but looking slightly curious.

He couldn’t help but make a small smile at **its** antics. At least that much stayed the same. He closed his eyes for a moment, tilting his head towards the sky. “Shirōgetsu,” he announced at last. What sounded like a soft gasp caused him to open his eyes to see **it** facing him completely, dark eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Now that **it** faced him, he confirmed it. “Your name is Shirōgetsu.”

 **It** stared at him. “ _Is_ ”, he said. Not “could be”. Not “will be”. Not a question. _Definite_. It suddenly felt…as if that name was always…so familiar. “…Shirō…getsu…”

Upon hearing that familiar warbled voice, no longer so low and dark from that time, Ichigo felt a sort of relieved feeling pass through him. He reached out with his senses and felt a bond between them slowly weave itself whole from the thread that was once there. He let out a soft sigh. It felt good to be talking like this to…to _him_. He should place Shirōgetsu on the same, even level he placed Zangetsu. They were all equals, of a strange sort, after all. No more calling him “Hollow” or “it”.

His attention went back to his white double as his eyes were clouded over as if he were in a sort of trance “…My name…” he said softly, his eyes slowly closing.

Ichigo watched him calmly, curiously. The name seemed to be taken well…Or so he hoped it was. The very second after he finished that thought, though it was slow to rise, loud, warbled laughs began to emit from the Hollow’s mouth.

“…Ha…haha! HAHAHAHAHAAAA~!”

Ichigo twitched, unable to tell if he was angry, mocking him or truly elated— until the laughs continued, maniacal, so loud and so _happy_ that tawny eyes blinked in surprise.

The Hollow was laughing so hard he had doubled over, holding his stomach and his eyes closed. Ichigo glanced to Zangetsu, who was watching just as closely with a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He looked back to the Hollow just to see him throw his head back as he continued into a familiar cackle— and that's when Ichigo started getting a little concerned.

But before he could say or do anything, yin-yang eyes opened and looked at the sky as the Hollow spoke at last. “Shirōgetsu!” he repeated, loudly and a large grin on his pastel face. “White Moon…White _Moon_!” He belted out into cackling again.

Shaking his head, Ichigo made a small chuckle. Oh, he was happy, alright.

The laughter suddenly died as the Hollow stood upright and closed his mouth, eyes shining as he grinned. Liquid eyes glanced at the teen, a slender eyebrow rising. “…Why do you care?” he asked, the question at odds with his pleased expression.

“Because I do…” was Ichigo’s initial, lackluster response.

Shirōgetsu scoffed at this, inclining his head towards him as if he was waiting for more.

“…and because...I know better than _not_ to,” Ichigo finished, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

The grin on that pale face became impossibly larger. The Hollow felt as if he were having an out of body experience. How could he be so happy? Just days ago, he wanted nothing to do with Ichigo. But now…It was almost like that time Zangetsu tested Ichigo by bringing him into his inner world, the day Ichigo met Shirōgetsu. Zangetsu just _knew_ when Ichigo was serious and truly _changed_ within himself. It felt like that again…

“…You bored?” came Ichigo’s sudden question.

Shirōgetsu blinked at the abrupt, strange question. “Eh?”

Placing his hand fondly on the white wrap around his zanpakutō’s hilt, Ichigo explained, “It’s been kind of dull not having a worthy fight since Aizen.”

The Hollow feigned disinterest, shrugging and wiping the grin from his face, even though he was truly _itching_ to beat the crap out of the bastard _unrestrained_. “Oh?”

“I promise I’ll let you go all-out.”

He covered his surprise at Ichigo reading right through him by scoffing. “ _Promises_ , now, Ichigo?” he chided with mock disdain, brushing him off with a wave of a hand. “After havin’ your ass handed to ya through your mouth, you’re still spittin’ dangerous shit like that?”

Orange eyebrows tightened as Ichigo’s scowl deepened. “Fight me.”

The corner of Shirōgetsu’s mouth twitched. So they were both dying for a fight, eh? Seriously, the kid was becoming more like a Kenpachi, whether he admitted it or not. Scoffing once again, he turned and began to walk away. “God, you piss me off…”

Blinking, confused and shocked, Ichigo stayed unmoved on the spot. Was the Hollow seriously going to continue being so…disagreeable?? Then again, it would make sense that he would need time to, perhaps, trust him again. But just as Ichigo thought this, that familiar dark reiatsu began to rise as Shirōgetsu turned back around and took his white Zangetsu off his back.

He brandished his signature grin. “Heh. Fine, Ichigo…” He stood in the familiar stance, eyes flashing as the cloth wrapped around his arm, “but don’t go cryin’ to Zangetsu after I hand your ass to ya!”

Ichigo grinned, taking Zangetsu off his back and mimicking his Hollow’s pose. “Ban—!”

_“— **KAI!** ”_

And again, white and black clashed within the inner world, laughter and pleased shouts ringing out.

Needless to say, both enjoyed himself far more than they would ever want to admit. Zangetsu watched them at a distance, a smile on his face and all the pride he could hold for the both of them shining within his eyes behind tinted glasses.

* * *

Hours later, Ichigo and Shirōgetsu had stopped fighting. A sort of peaceful silence was left in their wake. Sparring or not, they had giving to the fight all they had pent up for months and days and managed to land multiple fine hits on one another. To say the least, they were thoroughly content.

They rested, now, Ichigo sitting back on his hands with one leg stretched out while the other was pulled up and Shirōgetsu lying on his back with his hands under his head. Both were out of bankai and had their eyes closed. Their wounds, which had consisted of deep cuts, bruises and bleeding foreheads, had all healed. To their far right stood Zangetsu, still on his pole and his eyes also closed.

Ichigo was the first to break the long silence, beginning with a content sigh. “…Shirō?” he said, calling his Hollow by the nickname he had begun to use when he first landed a successful attack on him.

“Mn?” came the content, hummed response.

Inhaling deeply, he began, “…I’m sor—”

**_WHAM_ **

Ichigo spun in the air from the sudden throw, landing on the balls of his feet and sliding back from the momentum. “OI!” he shouted at Shirō, who was standing out of a previously leaned pose and letting his hand drop to his side. “What gives?!”

Returning to his position on the ground, Shirō ignored his question. “…I thought I wanted t’hear that, but then I figured…” He shrugged, readjusting himself, lifting his arms to hide his face from the sides and closing his eyes. “Nah. Ya already apologized.”

Blinking rapidly, it took a moment for Ichigo to digest this information. He wasn’t exactly sure _how_ he had apologized, but…there were many ways he might have.

Moving his arms to get a look at Ichigo’s face, Shirō scoffed, looking only slightly disappointed. “Still clueless as ever, King…” he reproached lightly.

Ichigo grimaced upon hearing that word as he slowly approaching him again.

Upon seeing his expression, Shirō sat up, eyes demanding to know which of the things he said had bothering him.

“…I don’t deserve to be called that,” Ichigo explained quietly, “not after what I’ve done.”

He was given an incredulous, stoic stare. “You _really_ think so?”

He responded with a nod.

“Even though you _are_?”

“What’re you trying to say?”

The Hollow looked away, disappointment flashing on his features. “Jus’ ‘cause th’ King doesn’t _want_ to be called by his title, it doesn’t mean he ain’t,” he stated.

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to be called by it!” Ichigo countered.

Dark eyes rolled at that. Such a boldfaced lie, it wasn’t even funny.

“…Okay, fine, I don’t, really,” he admitted. “It sounds…egotistic.”

“ _Huh_.”

Waving his hand as if to move the matter aside, Ichigo shook his head. “But what I was getting to was that I’d think after what I did, I’d have to earn your trust befo—!?”

Shirō grabbed him by his kosode with one hand in a deadly grip as he suddenly stood before him and looked him dead in the eye. And he _did not look happy_.“You’re _our_ King, Ichigo,” he growled, his voice dangerously low. “ _Mine_. An’ you’d better _hope_ a time never comes where I’d _not_ want to call you so.”

Tawny eyes met his, unwavering, resolute. There was absolutely no sign of doubt. “It won’t,” Ichigo swore.

Grinning, Shirō lessened his grip. _That_ is what he was looking for. _That_ is what he wanted to see. But then he remembered. “It won’t” could also refer to…His face abruptly hardened, his eyes going cold. He shoved Ichigo away, eyes downcast and looking away from him. “…Damn straight,” he murmured. “Ain’t that the Ichigo I remember…”

Ichigo understood in a moment, even though that isn’t what he meant. He placed his hand on Shirōgetsu’s shoulder, stopping him as he began to turn away. “…This isn’t the end, Shirō,” he said. “It can’t be. Dad got his powers back. I could, too.”

“Yeah, after God-knows-how-long…”

“It still happened. That’s what matters.”

Those cold eyes glanced at him, slowly thawing out to a sort of resigned acceptance. “An’ where do Zangetsu an’ I go till then, huh?” Shirō, asked, almost challengingly.

Ichigo frowned, sliding his hand off Shirō’s shoulder. “…You know I don’t know that…”

“An’ what ‘bout me?”

Blinking, Ichigo’s brows furrowed. “…What?”

His stare hard and stoic, Shirō explained, “I might not even come back. I ain’t a _natural_ part of you.”

“But you are nonetheless a part of him.”

Both Shirō and Ichigo turned to Zangetsu. The zanpakutō spirit’s eyes were closed, his expression passive.

Shirō only slightly glared at him. “…Stay out of this, old man…” he murmured, glancing away.

“He’s got a point.” Looking up into those tawny eyes he used to hate, Shirō watched as Ichigo seemed slightly disappointed at his attitude, frowning slightly. “Though I wasn’t born with you, you’re a part of me _now_ , when it’s happening and when it will happen.”

Though he tried to seem indifferent to those words, Shirō’s eyes narrowed. Another promise; that was three, now. He was starting to hate them. “Am I really?” he asked challengingly.

Ichigo watched him for a moment, reading his expression carefully. He then sighed, crossing his arms and closing his eyes.”…Don’t be stupid, Shirō,” he chided softly, almost gently. “I’m not _just_ a human-turned-Vizard.” He opened his eyes and looked over at Zangetsu, whose eyes were also open. “You are not _just_ my zanpakutō or _just_ the manifestation of my Shinigami power.” He then looked at Shirō. “You’re not _just_ my Hollow or _just_ the manifestation of my Hollow power.”

Confused, anger briefly flashed on Shirō’s face, but he steadied his new emotions, aware Ichigo wasn’t done speaking.

“I became the Moon Fang.” Again Ichigo looked at Zangetsu, nodding at him. “You’re my Slaying Moon.” He looked at Shirō again. “And you’re my White Moon…”

A smile slowly spread on Zangetsu’s face. Shirō’s expression softened as he realized what Ichigo was saying.

Giving him a grin, Ichigo shook his head. “We’re partners. I couldn’t ask for more.”

Ichigo could feel it then, all of the tension and negative emotions crowding his mind and invading his soul from the strain on the newborn bond between himself and his Hollow dissolve away. He felt… _content_ , this time in the truest of meanings. Those rising feelings and nervousness from when he first felt the void within him were now faint memories. It was such a wonderfully peaceful feeling, he couldn’t help but close his eyes.

So this is what it was like to be at ease with one’s whole being…

“…Heh…”

Opening his eyes, he saw Shirōgetsu smirking, his eyes soft in a way Ichigo had never seen or thought he’d ever see. “Alright,” he chuckled, “I’ll hold ya to that promise. When _that_ happens, I’ll be a part of you.”

Ichigo then watched as the darkness that made up Zangetsu’s garb seemed to move just slightly into Shirō’s direction. As that happened, the Hollow’s body began to disappear, flaking away to dark specks that became a part of Zangetsu.

“…For th’ bastard you can be…” Shirōgetsu grinned at him, the pleased expression meeting his dark eyes, “…you seem t’know just when to stop bein’ one…” his voice echoed as the last of his face faded away, “…aibou.”

Staring after the empty space he had occupied, Ichigo blinked. He then hummed, agreeing with the fact, and turned his head downcast. It all went _much_ better than he ever thought possible. Made him feel guilty he hadn't thought of this before. But he didn’t dwell on that. It was the past, now. He then glanced at Zangetsu again, smiling briefly in silent thanks, before looking back to the sky.

It was a perfect, endless blue, once again.

* * *

_“Ya hear that, old man? I’m a ‘getsu’, now, too~!”_

Zangetsu simply smiled, closing his eyes as the King receded from his lonely, happy kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I came up with Shirōgetsu's name: exactly how Ichigo did in this fic, thoughts included. In the beginning, I called him “Hichigo”, too, and still do, but not in my head. Then I went to “Shiro”; never liked “Shirosaki” or...”Ogihci Ikasoruk” *shudders*. I've tried to look it up everywhere, but I can't find the proper name for “white moon” in Japanese, so I just put “Shiro” (white) with “getsu” (one of many ways to say “moon”). Though I could have used “Shirōigetsu”, which is probably the proper way to say it… Shirōgetsu sounds better. 
> 
> Yes, there could have been other names. Many other names. Why did I choose Shirōgetsu? White, in Japan, is the color of death, if you can believe that. That isn't used very often, even in anime and manga, but I find that very cool and very creepy. After all, white isn't a color at all. It is lack of color and no color whatsoever. Every color combined creates black. There is no color or color combination that can turn white. To me, that is almost like saying lack of life, since colors are lively. Someone said in the previous version of _Echo_ that I could have used “Shigetsu”. “Shi” means death, so I’m guessing this person was thinking that was better? But why not make his name a pun? “Shirō” has the word “shi” in it, after all, and I like the nickname Shirō that would come from it. I don't know Japanese, okay....? I tried with what I could get...


	7. Hidden Track: Coup d’état’atta Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had originally intended for this to be in the continuation, but…as ideas kept coming to me and I began writing and typing like a maniac high on tea and apple juice, I couldn't find a place for it…which made me sad. Very, very sad. But because I love it so much, I decided to keep it as a teaser, which made me happy again~! Enjoy, and thank you all again! The continuation of Echo and last story in the first half of the Echo Series is coming, soon!!
> 
> Title comes from the merging of coup d'état with the phrase "atta-boy". So you'd pronounce it "Coo-day-tatta-boy".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stronger bromance than before.

_“Ichigo!”_

He stared at the break of building and sky, noticing immediately that the last remnants of blue were quickly replaced with grey as the sky became darker. The news slowly settled in, causing a deep crease to form between his brows. Upon taking notice of white and black out of the corner of his eye, he sat up from his laying position and faced them.

Zangetsu, in his usual position, and Shirōgetsu, who crouched beside him, were watching him carefully. Though in the deep ebon-silver pools of the Hollow, there was very apparent anger. “ _Get rid of your Hollow_ ,” he repeated with a snarl, as if challenging Ichigo to rebuke what was said.  “ _Relinquish their Hollows_. _Orders_.”

Ichigo only looked at him calmly before lifting a leg up and resting his arm on his knee, looking away. Back in his inner world after a few days and look at the greeting. So typical. “Not going to happen.”

“Why not, eh, King?” Shirōgetsu asked with a sneer.

Glancing at him, Ichigo sighed softly. “You know why. I haven’t told anyone else about what’s going on. It’s only natural they’d think I’m probably going to stay a Vizard longer than I actually am…”

“And if you explain?” Zangetsu asked.

“…Rukia and Renji would probably let it go,” Ichigo said softly, standing up to look at his slowly disintegrating world. Even though he wasn’t having an episode, the world seemed to slightly shudder and quake. He hated it.

“An’ th’ Central 46?” Shirōgetsu asked, narrowing his eyes. “They’ll probably want you t’get rid of me anyways.”

Ichigo made a small scoff, turning and beginning to walk towards them. “Words like those are the reason why I’m the one in charge, here. Zangetsu,” he said, “what do you think?”

The zanpakutō spirit closed his eyes. “It’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before,” he murmured calmly. “I wish to protect you, Ichigo. Shirōgetsu is a part of you.”

Satisfied with that response, Ichigo grinned upon seeing the Hollow’s surprised expression directed at the older-looking spirit. “You see, Shirō,” he explained, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “Zangetsu and I rather enjoy your company. Whatever reason caused your existence, you are a part of me, now, and you know how I am about people ordering me around. I’ll damn well go down fighting to protect you, idiot.”

Shirōgetsu cocked an eyebrow, looking slightly amused. “A part of you, eh? Protect _me_? An’ what about what _you’ve_ done, for that matter?”

Catching the taunting undertone in his voice, Ichigo’s grin widened. His expression then dropped and he slanted his eyes before muttering, “I’ll never be able to undo what I did to you, and Zangetsu, too, Shirō…” His gaze suddenly moved vaguely towards the ground, as if in deep thought. “But this is just…”

He slid his arm from Shirōgetsu’s shoulders and focused his attention to all and nothing in general, eyes scanning the fading, sideways buildings in deep thought. Was this the threat Shirōgetsu, his instincts, had felt so strongly? Thinking about it now that the threat was no mere possibility, but reality, his own sense of dread began to invade his mind, effectively causing the last of the blue heavens to become a darker shade of grey. The once white clouds floating to his side became infused with his worry, darkening, appearing prone to produce rain…Was he…truly in danger? And from Shinigami of all people?

“…Gettin’ ahead of yourself, eh, King?” a warbling, taunting voice murmured behind him, close behind him. “…I dowanna get wet…”

Hearing him, but not really registering what he said, Ichigo closed his eyes. This was an entirely new thought, and emotion, that passed through him. He couldn’t pinpoint it…but it nestled itself between fear and fierce determination, as if his life well depended on it, he figured. Opening his eyes just enough to be slants, he sat on the building before closing his eyes again. He just faintly heard movement behind him as well, but didn’t pay much attention. He then focused on the feeling, as if dissecting it, trying to rationalize his thought process and focus…

As he did, he also subconsciously, or maybe not so _sub_ conscious, reached out to his split and part of his soul. It was comforting to feel them and he relaxed his shoulders he was never aware were tense. He then began to think.

He was losing his powers, and fast. He deduced that before the end of the month, he’d be human again, if not sooner. The thought was…frightening. And seriously? These same guys who were the cause for Hitsugaya’s past misery and the same people no one would _dare_ to question or oppose wanted, no doubt, him and the other Vizards to _just give up_ a part of themselves or find themselves on a hit list? Ichigo didn’t know about the other Vizards, but that shit wasn’t happening to him. Not as long as he had even a little power to do something about it.

Just before he could enter a serious mental rage, willowy white arms in white sleeves wrapped around his chest, a body pressed against his back. Just slightly turning his head to the side, surprised, he took notice of Zangetsu’s presence closer to him as well. A small smile then appeared on his face as he looked up to the sky and opened his eyes. “…I know…” he murmured in affirmative to his soul’s silent messages. And the feeling finally became clear to him, though it came more as an echo within him.

 _Survival_.

He knew what he was up against. There was no way in hell he was going to rip a part of him from his being, regardless of what it was, and he didn’t even want to know _how_. So what if he was a Vizard; it wasn’t as if he was in danger or a threat. The Vizards themselves were proof of such. There was no way he was going to let them destroy, or do worse, to Shirōgetsu, whether by force or coercion. No, he didn’t even want to think of coercion. He was dismayed by the very idea, that he would somehow want a part of him to disappear. Why he wanted that, once upon a time, was something he tried very, _very_ hard not to think about.

Knowing what he knew now, he was severely disappointed and disheartened by the actions and decisions he made when he was just months younger…

Cool fingers brushed through his hair comfortingly. Slanting his eyes, he watched as the sky turned to a lighter gray color…and didn’t look as if it would be turning back to blue anytime soon. He sighed to himself. No, it probably wouldn’t. He would be high on alert, now, cautious and ready. There had to be some way out of this…

“…Shirō,” he muttered.

The Hollow simply held him a little closer and rested his head against Ichigo’s back. At this reaction, Ichigo frowned. This was the first time he’d ever experienced such a strong yet passive response from him and it was a bit worrying. He wondered what was on his mind…

“I’ve…I should go,” he sighed quietly, truly not wanting to leave. Who knew when he might be able to come back? “They’re calling me.”

Quiet for only a second, the Hollow grinned, raising his head. “You’ll come if I call, won’cha?” he asked lightheartedly, off-handedly, into the teen’s ear.

But Ichigo wasn’t fooled. He could practically feel the worry in that warbled voice and a true wanting for the honest answer to the question. And that worried him more. “Yeah.”

Baffled, surprised he was so easily read, Shirōgetsu made a small scoff. “…I was…jokin’…” he muttered faintly, more to himself than Ichigo. He wasn’t convincing anyone.

Shaking his head, Ichigo sighed at his antics and decided to play along. “I know.”

This response only caused Shirōgetsu to realize there really was no fooling him. He chuckled softly, another look of serenity and contentment passing over his face as he closed his eyes. “Y’know me too well, aibou,” he whispered softly. Releasing his arms from around him, he sighed briefly and opened his eyes. “See ya.”

Closing his eyes again, Ichigo made a small, sad smile. “You, too, Shirōgetsu…Zangetsu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Echough [Remix]_ , the continuation, is up!


End file.
